Keep It Simple Chapters 1-2
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Keep It Simple

Author: Bluebirdprism.

Moderately edited and enhanced by Rick Henry, 02-2022

Some characters owned by D.C. Comics. This is fan fiction of an erotic nature, for mature readers only.


Chapter 1: Keep It Simple

Nothing about my appearance was especially extraordinary. I had lightish brown- toned skin, close cut black hair and an exotic tilt to my dark green eyes that often went unnoticed. My general anonymity was of my own doing however, and it suited me just fine. I wasn’t interested in fine clothes and the flashy attitude that suited so many others of similar status. I’m 20 years old and had been named America’s youngest millionaire a year before I graduated high school. My father had helped me start my own clothing line dubbed K.I.S.S., for “Keep It Simple, Stupid.” A habitual phrase I had picked up from my mother whenever people made situations and solutions far more complicated and intricate than necessary. She lived by the motto that the simple and straightforward approach was always best.

We never let on what the brand name stood for, and with the right models in the right publications, we had everyone from tweens to 30-somethings absolutely mad for our clothes. With cluttered graphics and excessive applique designs fast losing their appeal, my designs featuring unique but subtle flair and no two pieces looking the same, America’s wallets were ripe for the picking.

I was happy my father kept my name out of the press as the designer and creator of the brand, allowing me to have a normal life. The normal life was fine with me, I wasn’t much for cameras and press releases. However, I did find myself bored with college life for the most part. The occasional keg party was fun and midnight bonfires were some great times, but I found myself feeling unsatisfied with it all. I was financially set for life and since the age of 12, I had been waist deep in the world of managing a business and had basically been running K.I.S.S. on my own since my 15th birthday. I even found myself refraining from challenging my marketing professor during his lectures. It was time I expanded my boundaries and maybe took the K.I.S.S. motto into other fields of interest.

After showing a marked level of aptitude in management and marketing, my professors suggested me for a work study program in Metropolis. I was to be sent along with 4 other students to Athletechs, a fairly new manufacturer of sportswear and equipment that was in danger of being shut down by its parent company, Lexcorp, as it hadn’t been doing as well as projected in its opening year. David, my roommate, whose blond athletic build perfectly camouflaged the computer genius underneath, practically gushed over the idea of possibly seeing Superman in person when we went back to our dorm room. I just kind of shrugged in response; sure Superman was impressive and all, but in a world practically bursting with shrink-wrapped bodybuilders all itching to save the world, I really didn’t see the infatuation so many felt with this particular specimen. Personally, I always felt more drawn to Batman in the arena of Superheroes; he got the job done and was gone again without any fanfare or ceremony—unlike Superman and many others, who were more than happy to smile and wave and kiss babies for the press. I had even seen an interview of Superman on Vid-tube, which pointed out that Superman spent nearly the entire interview subtly flexing his pecs, tensing his fabled arms, and coyly preening for the camera. I mean honestly, as if his body condom costume wasn’t showboating enough!

David’s face slightly fell when I didn’t share in his excitement at the possibility of meeting Superman in the flesh. He practically worshipped the ground I walked on and I’ll admit sometimes I felt sorry for him. I consider myself bisexual but I more often lean toward men. David and I slept together last year over spring break. Much to my surprise, the muscle boy was a lusty bottom of biblical proportions, and it had gradually turned into a pretty regular thing. We weren’t a couple by any means and both dated and fooled around with guys and girls, but nothing was quite like the smile on his face every time I fucked him to sleep, and the fact that he could bench press two of me made it even hotter. I walked over to him somewhat dejectedly holding a newspaper reporting Superman’s latest heroism, and I put another smile on his face before we went out to celebrate with the other work study nominees.

We weren’t even in Metropolis a full week before we got to see Superman a lot closer than even David liked. Athletech’s selling point was that their products meshed sport performance enhancing properties with some of the most advanced technology available, offering the dedicated athlete all manner of options for maximum convenience and the ability to get the most possible out of training. Programmable shoes and watches that could calculate heart rate, bmi, burned calories and steps taken, into types of tights, shirts, and shorts… all of which were Bluetooth enabled with a free smartphone app, and which also allowed the user to construct a full workout regimen that held one accountable if you didn’t work out as much as you were supposed to, or even congratulated you if you pushed yourself and did more than the planned exercises. It was like Under Armor and Apple had had a baby.

Three days after we were introduced to everyone whom we would be working with to try and save the company from an early grave, Lex Luthor himself made a surprise visit to the office. I could have understood a little nervousness getting a surprise from the big boss that had made no secret of considering a closure, but it was an atmosphere of absolute terror when his limo was spotted outside.

In the whirlwind of panic in the office, I noticed the girl leading us to the main conference room to meet with Mr. Luthor was oddly calm and even chipper as she talked. I quickened my pace to get to the front of the group standing between her and David as we maneuvered around hysterical co-managers and queasy executives. “I get that it’s the boss man coming to visit, but why is everybody freaking out like this?” I looked over in disgust as a woman in a charcoal gray suit lost her breakfast in a trash can. The girl leading us to our meeting, Karen, looked back at me and leaned in almost whispering, “The last 4 times Mr. Luthor has paid a surprise visit, somebody has gotten fired and without fail their career is ruined afterward. Three months ago he fired a concept designer, and just last week he hung himself in front of Lexcorp HQ. Most of the people he fires either move away or go into another profession. A bad word out of a Luthor’s mouth, and you’re done in Metropolis.”

I nodded my head respecting that amount of influence, then I raised an eyebrow “Well, you seem wholly unaffected by all this, what’s your secret?”

Karen smirked. “Frankly, I’m too low on the totem pole to even warrant his attention. I’m a temp, and a psychology major; this place is a thesis waiting to happen.”

 I laughed at that, I liked Karen already. With that she opened the door to the conference room and announced us to Mr. Luthor. I’ll admit the man held a commanding presence, he reminded me of watching my father in the boardroom, only several degrees more intimidating. Where my father expected professionalism, Luthor seemed to demand “submission” even in his posture in the high-backed chair at the head of the table.

He was pale but not to the point of looking sickly, and his head reflected the fluorescent light as if he had freshly waxed it before making his appearance. I couldn’t even make out the color of his eyes as he watched us entering the room. They were practically slits as he followed each of us to our seats. I had hung back taking time to look at him as everyone else sat down, and I noticed somewhat to my dismay that everyone had felt the same intimidation and had all taken seats as far back from his end as possible… leaving me with choosing between sitting right next to him on his left, or his right. I decided if I was going to be in this situation I might as well make the most symbolic statement possible. I walked toward the chair on his right side, never breaking eye contact even as I felt my knees wanting to buckle at any minute the closer I got to him. I finally reached my chair and sat down deliberately, always maintaining ocular focus. When I finally sat down, I heard a faint “Hhmmm” rumble in his throat. I felt myself get nervous. Was that it? Had I just been judged? What could he possibly have gleaned about us by the way we sat down?

What made me even more uncomfortable was that I could feel myself getting hard under Luthor’s crude stare. What was it about his look that felt like he could just open me up both literally and figuratively at the slightest whim? It was unnerving and I liked it, which was also unnerving.

Luthor finally took his gaze around the room, stopping on each of us until we visibly squirmed in our seats. David took a cue from my book as Luthor got to him; looking him in the eye and even lifting his chin almost defiantly until that soul-punching glare left him head down like a kicked puppy, getting another “Hhmmm” from Luthor.

The whole experience wasn’t making any sense. I was set in my own business, so a “pass” in this program wasn’t even a requirement for passing in school, merely a nice boost to my GPA and a nice addition to my resume (which again, was probably pointless). But something in me withered under the gaze, and I felt like everything in me hinged on his approval. I was like a lovesick teenager—and all he’d done was look at me for a whole 15 seconds.

Finally Luthor stood up, and he was even more intimidating. I had heard of him before, of course, and seen a headshot or two in financial publications, but they did no justice to his presence in the same room. From his seated position, I had just assumed him to be a bald, probably mildly overweight old codger, with a sharp mind for money matters. My presumption of his appearance was so far off, I almost felt like I needed to apologize for even thinking it. I guess he stood about 6’2”, maybe 230lbs., but there was an apparent musculature made even more obvious when he took off his impeccably tailored jacket. He wasn’t shredded to cobblestone perfection like David, but he was no stranger to the gym. Something about that aspect attracted me to him as well. That powerful muscle was hidden under a deceptively soft layer, like a lethal blade in a smooth sheath.

He wore a dark purple shirt that stretched over his broad chest and snugly wrapped over his well-built arms, which practically rippled as he carefully folded his jacket. He finally turned back to face us, the expression on his face changed from the calculating predator we had first met into an open and honest expression. The speed of the transformation threw me off as he wrapped his large hands over the back of the chair he had just been occupying. “I’m sorry to say that I won’t be needing all of you for this little project. I have a good idea already which of you will be the most useful, but I’m nothing if not fair.”

We spent the next hour going over what we had learned about the company with Lex giving us a deeper look into the financial records and a more detailed look into the few successes and the far outnumbering failures the venture had suffered. We ended with offering up some ideas we had to improve operations and profits. They were limited due to the limited time we had been involved, but Mr. Luthor seemed impressed with our insights. We were all assigned projects that would allow us to pursue our individual ideas and the meeting was adjourned.

We were on our way to our respective departments to start our projects when I felt more than heard a rumble that seemed to shake the entire building. I got my footing and looked back at Mr. Luthor, who to my surprise rolled his eyes as he closed the door to the conference room behind us. Then the window behind me exploded, I covered my head and felt David grab the collar of my shirt yanking me away from the flying glass. We both fell into Mr. Luthor who steadied us bracing against the heavy oak door. That’s when I saw him, Superman himself, caught in a vice grip of what looked like a gigantic lobster claw. He grunted as he struggled to break the metal pincers before rocketing off through the shattered window. David’s hero worship couldn’t have been any plainer on his face; Luthor just looked irritated as if he was more disgruntled about replacing the window than anything else.

My attitude toward the nationwide adoration of Superman unchanged, I bolted to the window more interested in seeing what it was that he was fighting. As I guessed, it was a huge robot that seemed a cross between lobster and spider. It had 8 legs each that ended in a vicious claw that shattered pavement with each step it took. After darting around narrowly missing several more attempts to snatch him out of the air, Superman eventually managed to grab one of the legs and warp it, tangling up the other 7 legs, and sending the robot crashing to the ground in a horrific symphony of screeching metal and falling rubble.

The news flashed on several TV screens in the office with reports of the monstrosity Superman had just defeated. The cameras focused on Superman manhandling an archetypical mad scientist out from the robot’s head. The slight man wore an oversized lab coat and ludicrous goggles, cursing Superman the whole time he was carted off by police. I shook my head and mumbled, “Idiot!” before I turned to continue down the hall. David was transfixed watching Superman pose next to a flushed female reporter.

Mr. Luthor caught up to me in the hallway, “What was that you said back there?”

I wasn’t sure if his interest was a good or bad thing. His opinion of Superman was no secret, considering their well-documented cat and mouse game.

“I said that that Professor Asshat was an idiot!” I answered, deciding that being confident and direct would be the best approach with a businessman like Luthor.

He chuckled at my assessment of Superman’s latest foe. “What makes you say that?”

I regarded him for a second, “Well, like most of these so-called supervillains, they spend all manner of time and money making these plans to finally destroy Superman, and when all is said and done, it’s the ridiculous amount of details that end up being their undoing. It’s like they watched every cheesy cartoon known to man and instead of learning from the hackneyed villains’ stereotypes, they decide to try to emulate them, and are shocked when their plans fail.”

Luthor let out a full laugh at this. I couldn’t believe I was having a laugh with the most intimidating man I had ever met; and it felt good.

He put a hand on my shoulder, “I suppose you could come up with a more successful plan of attack—I mean, if you decided you wanted to take on Superman?”

I suddenly realized Luthor was actually testing me, gauging my reaction as he talked about me facing the Man of Steel, a shadow of that calculating predator’s stare returned in his eyes. I returned his stare, finding myself losing my train of thought for a moment before finally jumping in with both feet. I picked up a baseball bat prototype, “Give me the right tools and I could take Superman out with this baseball bat.”

Mr. Luthor’s eyes widened for a second. I couldn’t tell if he thought I was a genius, or out of my mind. Finally he grinned, “I like you kid, and I’ll take that wager.” My eyes snapped open in shock. As Luthor held his hand out for the bat, I started stuttering not expecting that reaction out of him. He grinned “Come by my office when you finish up here, and don’t worry, just keep it simple.”

He winked at me as he walked away. My jaw dropped watching him leave, he knew! The whole time he had known who I was… and he filled out a pair of slacks like few men could. I shook my head, and after snapping David out of his stupor (watching slow motion replays of Superman’s battle with the lobster-spider), we continued with our work for the day, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand: saving Athletechs.

After the day was done, I told David I would catch up with him later, making up a lie about meeting my Dad in the city, so I had a legit excuse not to go back to the hotel with everyone else. I caught a cab and as soon as I said the Lexcorp building, the driver looked at me in his rearview mirror and briefly shook his head, “That vampire is getting them younger every day.” I didn’t know how to respond to that so I just remained silent during the ride. The Lexcorp building was an even more impressive sight in person; all glass and chrome formed into an L that was at least 20 stories high. I made my way inside and an attractive brunette in a three-piece suit that was about two sizes too small for her chest approached me. Before I could get a word out, she announced flatly: “Mr. Luthor has been expecting you,” and she began walking toward a bank of gold elevator doors at a brisk pace.

I basically ran to keep up with her, her steps so quick that her tightly curled tendrils bounced with each click of her heels. I could tell by the look on her face that small talk wasn’t going to be much appreciated so I kept quiet, slipping back into the comfortable anonymity of my childhood, despite the rocket I seemed to be riding—to be in Metropolis for three days, and having already caught the attention of Uber Mogul Lex Luthor. The elevator opened into a penthouse suite with all manner of opulent furnishings and artwork on the walls. Taking it all in, I felt a small twinge, thinking maybe a little wealthy ambience wasn’t so bad after all. Luthor dismissed the busty brunette and came from behind his large desk. “I’m glad you decided to come by after all, I think we have a lot to talk about.” He led me to a chair in front of his desk and returned to the leather one behind it.

“I liked what you had to say about the many failed attempts at defeating Superman, and was interested in hearing more of your ideas.” I felt like I could possibly be treading into dangerous territory even having this conversation, but I decided that I had lived cautiously long enough. College was supposed to be the time of experimenting and trying new things, after all; so maybe my dark side needed some time to breathe.                     


Chapter 2: The Plot Thickens

I hesitated for a second, “Well, yeah, I mean everybody knows Superman’s one main weakness is Kryptonite, right?” Luthor nodded and motioned for me to continue. “So that being practically common knowledge, why is it that you hardly ever hear of these so-called super villains trying to use it against him? Or if they do, it’s some elaborate nonsense with a Kryptonite ray gun or a nuclear bomb with some ridiculous countdown. Why all the theatrics—which frankly just gives Superman the chance to expose their flaws in the plan? Beating Superman or any superhero is painfully simple, if you have access to his weaknesses.”

Mr. Luthor’s eyes widened, “So you say that you can defeat Superman with a baseball bat, just like that?” Luthor shrugged nonchalantly to make his point. “Just like that,” I grinned. “I could beat him with a baseball bat, a rolling pin, a brick even. I just need a fairly small amount of Kryptonite, and some cooperation from your security team.”

It was Luthor’s turn to laugh, “And what would my security have to do with it?” I told Mr. Luthor my plan, which took all of five minutes… due to it not having a modicum of the complexity most villains need in their schemes. After I was done,  Luthor slowly leaned back in his chair. “That’s it?!”

I nodded. “That’s it, like I said. Surprise is the key, and removing his perception of any sort of threat.” Mr. Luthor grinned as he leaned forward and pressed a button on his desk, “You hear that, fellas? I’d like to make a wager.”

A monitor flashed to life behind Mr. Luthor, to show a split screen with the Joker on the left and Metallo on the right. Joker was in a hysterical fit of laughter. “It’s just crazy enough to work! I’ll gladly take that bet. The blue bastard will never see it coming. Get it? See it coming?” Joker dissolved into another round of giggles. Metallo didn’t look as amused with my take on defeating Superman. “I practically run on Kryptonite batteries, and this punk kid thinks a baseball bat and a few lumps of this stuff is the silver bullet to take Superman down?!”

Joker rolled his eyes, “He knows what to expect from you, Captain Alloy, you’re a one trick pony. This kid has style, something that couldn’t hurt your little gimmick.” Metallo was practically seething, the metal half of his jaw gritting his teeth together was like something out of a Terminator nightmare. I couldn’t believe I was sitting here in a villains’ conference call, in the penthouse office of the most powerful man in Metropolis, when a week ago I was just a multi-millionaire college student trying to remain relatively anonymous.

Joker leaned back in his chair, “I can’t wait to see this, kid—you’re gonna knock this one out of the park!” Offscreen I could hear Take Me Out To The Ballgame begin playing, and Jokers side of the screen went blank as he dissolved in another fit of laughter. The screen shifted filling entirely with Metallo’s clearly irritated visage. He leaned forward grumbling, “Waste of my time,” before slamming a button on the console in front of him, disconnecting the video.

Luthor pressed another button on his desk, and with a low hum the screen slid away into a wall panel, revealing a bay of windows overlooking the city. He laughed to himself before looking up with a broad grin, “I wouldn’t say officially, but I think you’re part of the proverbial club.” I didn’t realize he had unbuttoned the top of his shirt during the video conference, but now it was all I could focus on. The dip in his throat at the collarbone led to a swell of engaging pectoral muscles that looked as smoothly prominent as his head.

Another contradiction to my usual tastes. I appreciate the male body in all its forms, but I was notorious for preferring hirsute gym fiends—clichéd as hell, but I like what I like. And here—was the absolute opposite. Lex stood from his chair smiling at me, his shirt fell aside, showing the full span of his opened buttons. The glimpse of his pack-curved chest filled my head with images of him standing before me shirtless, his torso and smooth pate gleaming. Luthor’s pecs were dense, sporting wide, succulent dark nipples… thick budded, and large as silver dollars. (Something I might have expected from an ego-brash Superman uncoyly displaying himself.)  Suddenly I was snapped out of my perverted imagination, drifting me elsewhere, as if I had not seen him move… when I felt Luthor’s hands on my shoulders from behind as he leaned over my chair. His voice was thick and low in my ear. I barely suppressed my shiver as he said “I think we have a beautiful thing here.”

He stood back up, his thumbs pressed into my shoulders, crushing the tension I had there like so much dried tinder. I lost control for a moment, a surprised moan escaping my lips as a warm rush spread down my back. Luthor chuckled and gave my shoulders a lighter squeeze “You really need to relax, kid.”

Relax, right! I was basically having sex daydreams about my boss, and the off-white slacks I was wearing did nothing to hide the oversized, fine burning erection I was battling with. And I was fresh out of reasons to stall, standing up as Mr. Luthor motioned toward the elevator. Luckily my boner decided laying against my hip was preferable to jutting straight out like a sundial, and I hoped that Luthor’s line of sight stayed above waist level as he handed me my jacket. Though a slant to his eyes confirmed otherwise.

Luthor pressed the call button for the elevator and clasped his hands in front of him; I opted to hold my jacket over my arm letting the drape hang over my twitching crotch. He looked at me as the elevator bell rang, “I will arrange for the materials you need to be sent to your hotel room. They should arrive by the time you leave Athletechs tomorrow, and I will see you this weekend, if not sooner.” I laughed nervously, “Um, yeah, this weekend, Mr. Luthor.” I nodded as I stepped into the elevator car, he followed me in and stood next to me. I was sure he noticed my brief shocked glance not expecting him to ride down with me.

Just as the elevator doors slid shut, I noticed him slip what looked like a black metallic keycard into a slot next to the number pad. The elevator bell went off again, and before I could even register what happened, I was pinned to the far wall of the elevator; Luthor’s left arm across my chest, his right palm pressed firmly into my aching erection. There was no holding back as his hand started moving in slow deliberate circles. Our eyes locked, mine wide and on the edge of shock, his held a smug knowing expression. One of my hands involuntarily went inside his shirt to flat lay over one of his nipples, the curve of his musculature, and he gave a monumental sigh. “For sure, my boy, for sure.” My lips parted, releasing a breathy moan as Mr. Luthor flexed his arm pressing even harder against my erection, sliding up my length and teasing the head at my belt line. I could feel myself leaking in wild lust, cursing my tight underwear for the first time as my cock screamed for release.

Luthor leaned in, his voice low and heated, pressing his body flush with mine. “Still dressed, I admire your restraint,” his full lips brushing my earlobe with every word, reducing me into a quivering muddle in his hands. “Most interns would have been kneeling under my desk by now. That’s always fun, but not a challenge,” he nuzzled my neck, getting a passionate strangled cry from me. “Slow and cool is what really catches my attention. Manly assets. And, nipple play….” He stopped massaging my erection and cupped my groin as he released me from the back wall. “We’ll resume this, say, when we have a certain “captive” audience in hand? I think we’ll be in a prime mood to celebrate.” He teased his lips against mine, grinning. When I responded and leaned in for a kiss, he denied me backing away. He started refastening his shirt, tucking it in. Then removed his keycard and stepped out of the elevator, nodding at me as the doors closed, “Until….”

I stood there gasping for breath for a moment, before I gained composure and pressed the L button for the lobby. Just before the doors opened into the bustling lobby, I looked down and noticed that my excitement had leaked more than I had thought, the spot of precum painfully obvious against my white pants. I hastily put on my suit jacket, thankful that I had opted for the longer cut, and hastily exited the Lexcorp building. When I came bursting into the hotel suite I shared with David, he gave me a beaming grin, “Hey, how’d it go-mmh—.” I cut him off pressing his lips in a searing kiss, blurring the lines between fucking and making love as I threw all of my pent-up lust into his more than willing, hulking body. Finally collapsing on his heaving chest. He grinned and rumbled breathlessly, “So I guess it went well with your “dad,” today?” There was a moment of silence, and then we both burst out in a fit of laughter.

To be continued…


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